You know, I'd give anything to not have this. I'd rather have any other mental disorder\illness or whatever the fuck this is. The old the grass is greener on the other side thing, I know it's not true but my god this is too much (my stomach is too big! it's too much!).

And it used to be so simple, just a year or two ago I could just pretend in my world & let all the worries of the future be clouded by the better universe.
So wonderful, where I'm loved, I'm a social butterfly & I don't hate be hugged & loved. Just stay in your room where it all flows into you, sweet cushioning dreams of the life you want, the person you want to be. Then snap back to reality where you're alone, isolated & afraid of how the real thing might be. At least in my fantasy I have control, I can't actually get hurt.
Then you realise one day that your sickening desires for such decadent, selfish things such as love, friendship & courage have created a hole, which you filled by eating. And then you saw it, how crazy & wild your desires are, the mirror, it tells no lies, you've become a large thing (it's too much).
Too much here, too much there, control yourself! Take it away, become as thin as you can be, cease to exist.

I remember how I first came to see myself as I was, at least physically, it was a substitute for the real thing (the real thing could bite me!), but nonetheless I saw how my actual self was & sought to destroy it. To implode, to carve away an imperfect body to carve away an imperfect soul. To make the pain move from soul to skin, to attempt to fix it by addressing your physical existence as the root of all evils.

I see myself as so naive then. Ignorance is bliss, but we can't stay in the dark forever, and when the ignorance lifts you have all this nasty stuff underneath. It's ugly, it's disorganised, it hurts.
I finally see the person who inside is crying because she is so empty & wants the real companionship that the rest of the population takes for granted. I see the person who (with those decadent, selfish wants & needs) wants to go to a movie with the neighbour girl without being terrified of doing or saying wrong thing (will she like me? am I too boring?) & then saying "Oh nevermind I'll just go to a movie with my other friends."

And now, I cannot stop it all, stop it from circling in my head like a mad donkey, around & around it goes. It enters my head late at night, when the dust settles from the day & all the information about myself stares me clear in the face. I am up tonight because of this, I am writing right now because of this. It won't leave my head, it insists on being rowdy, so I put it out there. Okay, I'm dealing with you.
I feel stuck, I want a cure, yes a CURE. And I want it now, I don't want the touchy-feely sessions with the therapist asking what my thoughts & feelings are about this & how this is long process.
I don't want to be scared that I'll wind up a lonely failure, I don't want my fantasies (but they are so soft, not like that pesky real world that everyone insists I live in). But that has never been how it works, oh the hell well.

This mental disorder is really a huge inconvenience, I mean, damnit it pisses me off.
And you may think that I've come so far, I have. That I have terrific insights, I think I do.
But even if you know every corner of your psyche it's not automatically fixed.
You can spot & analyze everything wrong with your car & you can drive it knowing that the transmission is bad, the steering wheel is lose & the break light is out.
But knowing it's there does not fix it, obviously.

Where to go? I'm trying to find out. Trying my hardest.

(I cannot take credit for the lines: to carve away an imperfect body to carve away an imperfect soul. To make the pain move from soul to skin. That was originally written by Marya Hornbacher.)